


A Million Dreams

by silveryink



Series: Charmed [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Christmas, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Magic, Technically it's Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17152628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryink/pseuds/silveryink
Summary: It's been a hundred years since Loki and Sigyn met, and what better way to start a romance than at Yule?





	A Million Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all! Here's my contribution to the seasonal fanfics, featuring Logyn

The Yule festival was widely celebrated in Asgard as the Equinox was in Vanaheim. Sigyn visited the realm quite often but she’d never attended the festival. Loki had assured her that winter, though rare, was one of the best things Asgard had to offer. Sigyn had noticed this about Loki, he loved winter and the cold beyond anything. The two of them had gone to Midgard when it was a bitter cold winter, and while Sigyn had summoned warmer clothes and furs, Loki had come short of running out and dancing in the snow.

Snowfall was mostly light on Asgard, but this year they had predicted a much colder winter with more snow. Loki couldn’t stop grinning when he heard the news, and promptly invited Sigyn to join them on Asgard.

 _Much as I love Vanaheim,_ he wrote, _its winter is – no offense – rather pitiful in comparison to that of Asgard. I have been told that Jotunheim’s winters are truly a wonder to behold, past Midgard’s, but the peace conditions forbid us – or rather, forbid me – from going to the realm of ice. You, however, are under no such restrictions._

Then he’d invited her to the Yule festival without thinking about the amount of preparations that would be required since she was, well, royalty. Odin had lectured him about not forgetting something as big as this next time, while Frigga had simply asked him when she would be arriving and offered to assist him with the preparations.

Of course, the palace was in a flurry. Loki found himself running across the corridors multiple times a day to prepare for Sigyn’s reception. He’d meant to invite her as his companion, but his father had interpreted it to be a diplomatic opportunity. Loki warned her about that in another note he sent to her, of course, so she knew what to expect.

As it was, Princess Alva was invited as well. Odin had insisted on it, seeing it as a way to cement relations with Ria as well (forgetting that Loki and Alva were good friends and had secured an alliance between their realms a century ago).

Loki eyed the new books that had arrived from Midgard thoughtfully, wondering where they would go with Asgard’s new cataloguing system. Sigyn had done a marvelous job the last time she’d been there and Loki could easily access any of the records he wanted to. He’d done his best to maintain that level of order, and had written countless times to Sigyn to ask for her help even when she could not come to Asgard.

He couldn’t wait for Sigyn to arrive the next day. He loved spending time with her – while Asgard had its fair share of brilliant scholars, he and Sigyn were extremely close. Over the last hundred years, the two of them had formed a friendship that they knew would last a lifetime.

Obviously, Loki’s heart had its own say in the matter.

Recently, his feelings surrounding his best friend were a bit… jumbled, to say the least. He had no idea what was going on. Well, that was not true. He had a fair idea – but he didn’t want to admit it to himself – not yet.

The books went in their respective shelves, and Loki leaned against one of the high bookcases, allowing his thoughts to wander for once. A century was hardly a long time in the eyes of an Aesir. He wondered if he was simply imagining things, or if his thoughts and emotions were simply the result of-

A loud crash startled him out of his musings and he spun around to face a breathless Thor. Loki looked past his brother to see a toppled shelf (mercifully empty and waiting to be stocked with new volumes) and let out a wordless cry. He summoned his _seidr_ and with a wave of his hand, the shelf fixed itself once more.

“Sorry about that,” Thor panted. “I just came to say – Father is looking for you.”

Loki nodded tersely, before striding out at a decided pace to his father’s chambers. The All-father generally called Thor to his chambers. It was Frigga who was more likely to send for Loki. He wondered what this was about (and he thought he had a faint idea). He knocked smartly at the door, and when his father responded with a “Come in,” he entered softly.

“Father, you sent for me?”

Odin looked up from the document he held in his hand. “Yes, Loki. I believed that you wanted to organize some of the parts of the festival to suit the ambassadors’ preferences, since you are well acquainted with them. I felt that they might be more comfortable if their surroundings seemed a bit familiar.”

Loki nodded. “Of course, Father, though I think that would only apply to the chambers they will stay in for the duration of their visit. Si- Princess Sigyn would not mind, but I know that she would be more satisfied with such arrangements.

“As for Princess Alva, she would not mind either way. Ria and Vanaheim, after all, don’t celebrate Yule as we do.” The honorifics sounded strange when he said them, after a century of calling them by their first names. Even more so since Alva hated being called by her title and had convinced most of the staff and citizens to use her name.

Loki was disheartened that Odin cared not for his friends, but the positions they carried, though he could hardly expect him to think them as anything but acquaintances after barely a hundred years of knowing each other. It was in incredibly short period of time, but enough to get to know one another well.

So how could he even see Sigyn as-

“I think you have got the situation well in hand, then,” Odin said. Loki blinked. “Yes, I have,” he said.

“I am proud of your efficient planning, my son,” the All-father said. “You have been a great help to us in organizing the festival.”

Loki wanted to say that he wouldn’t have needed to help if they had simply carried it on like they normally did, but he held his tongue and thanked his father politely before leaving. As he walked down the corridor, his thoughts were filled with the last festival he and Sigyn had attended. He raised his hand and remembered the way his greenish gold light had blended with her copper _seidr_. It had been possibly the most beautiful thing he had seen.

A small voice in the back of his head whispered, _after her, of course_.

Loki wanted to stab that traitorous voice. He had no idea whether Sigyn reciprocated his feelings. He wasn’t even sure what to do – he didn’t want to ruin their friendship just because he _happened_ to-

Well, wasn’t that convenient?

He went to his private orchards, where he wouldn’t be disturbed, and sought higher ground. The ash tree in the center of his grove had been aided to grow with his own _seidr_ and was easily the tallest in the orchard. The bark bit into his palms as he climbed the branches deftly, nimbly twisting himself into the small space.

Finally, he was at the top. There was only one branch that could support his weight at the top, and it had been designed and reinforced with his _seidr_ for that purpose.

He could relax.

...

Sigyn couldn’t wait to see Loki again. The last time she had visited Asgard was to help Loki reconstruct their archives. When she’d arrived, she’d despaired over their state. She also saw the energy that had filled her friend completely dissipate as they entered the sparsely stocked rooms. She’d vowed to change that immediately.

Loki had followed her lead and had created orbs of light to help them see. And in the light, the archives didn’t seem more dismal. The two of them took down the rotten shelves and commissioned for ones made out of more durable materials that could be enchanted to resist decay over time (as they had done).

Together, they placed orders for all the books they knew of, and Sigyn wrote extensively to their allies requesting for more, and they slowly filled the new shelves with tomes and records and books of all topics they could fathom. She worked out an efficient system for them to follow and created an interface that would help them store and retrieve the information at a moment’s glance.

If it was loosely based on the system in Vanaheim, well, who was going to complain?

The pair had maintained a steady friendship over the century, and had become nearly inseparable. They traveled to other realms, saw wonders that no one had seen before, and kept records of everything they witnessed. Over that time, Sigyn had also come to know Loki’s older brother, Thor, and a few of his friends.

She’d given them quite the verbal thrashing for making Loki feel insecure around them and had made it perfectly clear that Loki wouldn’t need to know about their conversation (she knew exactly when and how Loki found out, but neither of them mentioned it through an unspoken agreement).

When she received his letter, inviting her formally back to Asgard, she had to control her elation. She hadn’t seen him in a year, and was dearly missing his company (they wrote volumes to each other, but it wasn’t the same as talking face-to-face).

Now seemed to be as good a time as any to meet again.

...

Loki wondered why he had to wear special ceremonial armour. He was meeting Sigyn and Alva, not some dignitary from Midgard or Nornheim. Lady Solveig had been invited, but had respectfully declined. While she was not, as many claimed, a representative of the Norns, she was still a high-ranking, _busy_ official of the world that had been named after the three sisters. But he couldn’t be bothered with that now.

The only reason he hadn’t completely fallen to pieces, what with all the planning, was because of his mother. Frigga had assisted him with more or less every detail of the festival, from the grand ball to the feast to the decorations to the living quarters of the visitors. It was thanks to her that Loki had kept a cool mind throughout the process.

And in no time at all, the day arrived.

...

The armour was terrible, Loki had decided, but it was not worth being yelled at if he tried to cast a glamour over himself to make it _seem_ like he was wearing it. Not that anyone (except his mother, and perhaps Sigyn) could tell. He had had the hindsight to make some ceremonial armour himself, thankfully. His mother had taught Thor and him how to mend any clothes or armour at a moment’s notice in case of emergencies, but Loki had gone a step further and learned how to sew a dress (and armour) completely from scratch.

All the women of the court had been impressed to know this little detail about the prince, and Frigga had been so proud when she’d seen the dress he’d made for her last year.

Back to the armour. It was simple, yet elaborate enough to befit a prince, and light. It was also made of durable material which probably wouldn’t last in a battle but would be enough for emergencies. He’d kept the headpiece, a thin band of gold with small horns that he’d enchanted to grow as he aged. The first time he’d worn it was when he’d met Sigyn, and the horns had been barely visible. Now, they were somewhat longer and weren’t peeking through the metal band.

The one piece in his armour that he disliked was the decorative gorget that did nothing to protect his collar, but made it hard to breathe or turn his head or do anything but look straight. He’d taken it off as soon as he’d gotten on Vanaheim when he’d last had to wear the infernal thing.

Norns, Sigyn was going to laugh so hard when she saw him in the gorget. He glared at the offending piece of metal and considered melting it and recasting it into some sort of belt or sheath for his dagger. Sighing, he fixed it to his collar, and immediately found it obstructive and irritating as it always was. At least he only had to wear it until he came of age (two more centuries, oh _joy_ ).

He raised an eyebrow when he saw the cape. He’d forgotten to attach it to the clasps on his coat. He sighed and used his _seidr_ to attach it easily before striding to the throne room to welcome the guests.

...

Alva reached Asgard first, which was no surprise. The princess of Ria had often spoken about how she would do away with the world’s monarchial system when she rose to power. She had told Loki and Sigyn that a different form of governance was the only way Ria could remain in peace for longer than a few centuries, but that a monarchy suited Asgard perfectly.

While Vanaheim had had rulers from the same dynasty for the last three generations, it was in reality governed by a parliamentary body called the Thing. Alva and Loki had been fascinated by the way the process of electing a new ruler took place.

Loki knew that Sigyn’s mother was the Queen Regnant of Vanaheim, which was something not quite unheard of on Asgard, but uncommon. After all, when Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep a few years ago, Frigga had been named regent. Sigyn had told him that this was a bit different, though the concept resembled it somewhat.

Sigyn was late. This shouldn’t have surprised Loki one bit. His best friend was known to lose herself in the archives, so he wasn’t too worried as he chatted with Alva. And yet, some part of him was buzzing with… apprehension? Anticipation?

“Her Highness, Princess Sigyn of Vanaheim,” the page called, startling Loki out of his thoughts. He looked up at her as she entered and had to restrain himself from grinning like a fool. It hadn’t been _that_ long since he’d last seen her, but he’d still missed her.

And, of course, there was the other matter of-

“Your Majesty, your Highness,” Sigyn said and curtsied before Odin and Frigga. Odin nodded regally while Frigga smiled at her warmly. Sigyn turned to the two brothers. “Your Highnesses,” she said, with a bow. Loki smiled and nodded back, as was the decorum. He wished he could greet her as he normally did, but he knew that appearances had to be maintained in court.

Luckily, it didn’t last too long.

...

The ball was fantastic. Loki had partnered with Sigyn at first, and the two of them hadn’t stopped talking while they danced, but something seemed a bit off about the conversation. Loki supposed it was because of his feelings for her. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable in front of an audience, he remained silent on that matter,bantering with his best friend as usual, even if it seemed a little flat.

The next dance had him partnering Alva, who was as excitable as always. After a brief greeting, the two of them fell silent, a stark contrast to his last dance, but it was a companionable silence.

Alva switched with Fandral to dance with Sif. Loki doubted that he’d ever seen Sif dance before. He knew not to mention this to her later, since she was likely to dismember him if he did so.

Fandral frowned. “I don’t know…”

Loki sighed, adjusting their position quickly. The only reason men didn’t dance with other men on Asgard was because they were all taught to lead. He aimed to change that in the future. Sigyn had introduced him to Leif decades ago. Leif had met Frigga one winter and the two of them had then teamed up and taught Loki several new dances, to both lead and follow.

 “I do,” Loki said firmly as the musicians began to play. “Just lead.”

Fandral, as it turned out, wasn’t the worst dance partner. He just… wasn’t the best.

“I intended to woo Lady Alva, you know,” he mentioned casually.

“Did you? Good luck with that. She’s not interested in romance.”

Fandral raised an eyebrow.

“That isn’t a challenge, Fandral,” Loki warned.

“I know,” he said neutrally. “Besides, there are others I have my eyes on.”

“If this is you flirting with me, I have to say, I’m not interested.”

“No, not at all. I was merely talking about a certain Vanir princess who is dancing with your brother.”

“ _What?”_ Loki couldn’t help but use the next step as a cover to glance at Sigyn, who was spinning quite happily in Frigga’s arms. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face then, as he turned back to Fandral. The other man was grinning wickedly, and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Shut up,” Loki said without prompting.

“I didn’t say anything! And I was quite obviously _joking_ , O god of lies.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Have you told her?”

“Told her what?”

“I’m not a fool, Loki,” Fandral said exasperatedly. “And I’m not blind, either. All I’m saying is, you should tell her soon, before someone else makes a move.”

Loki fell silent, thoughtful, as the music ended and they bowed to each other.

He would tell her tonight.

...

Loki decided to slip out of his chambers and meet Sigyn at his private orchard like they normally did. He had slipped her a message as they retired from the dance. For some reason, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. He brushed away the feeling and waited until the staff left his section of the palace.

He had already changed into his nightclothes to avoid suspicion, but when he listened with his _seidr_ and found only silence, he tossed off the covers and methodically changed once more into an informal shirt and trousers. He laced his boots with magic and donned his hooded cloak. His only adornment was the line of silver thread along the border of his hood, and even that was not noticeable.

No one saw the shadow that slipped out of the prince’s chambers. Loki had enchanted his boots to be soundless centuries ago, and while he hadn’t quite mastered illusion spells that cloaked him fully, he had practiced stealth to the point where he could blend in with any shadow easily.

The path to his orchards was empty, as he expected. He lowered his hood and breathed in the night air, casting his eyes towards the star-dotted sky. He and Sigyn had stayed up late every time they visited each other and pointed out the different stars and constellations in soft tones as they lay on the ground, facing the heavens.

They had attended multiple parties as well, and men and women alike flocked to dance with them, which was thanks to Leif’s lessons. They mostly ended up filling each others’ dance cards, though (dance cards were a relatively new practice started in Ria), and swayed to the music till they called it a day.

But Loki would never forget the first time they met at the Autumn Ball. Sigyn had captured his heart that same day, when they had decided to become friends. Royal life didn’t leave a lot of spare time for forming acquaintances, but it was certainly possible, even probable when one paid no heed to rules.

The two of them had not paid any attention to them, not one bit. They had thrown the concept of propriety out into the Ginnungagap the minute they’d started to travel to other realms together with no supervision. Propriety in itself wasn’t an issue, as the rules surrounding friendship and courtship were admittedly lax, but royal families had a code to stick to that Loki and Sigyn had rebelled against since the day they met.

It must have been the reason he had fallen so hard for her.

And there it was.

“Loki?”

The second prince of Asgard spun around and smiled when he saw his best friend step out of the shadows. Her flaming red hair shone under the light he had summoned. She looked estatic to see him, despite having met him earlier that day in the dance. He too could feel the smile broaden into a grin. The two of them started talking simultaneously, before breaking off into laughter.

“I missed this,” Sigyn said. “I missed you.”

“As did I.” Loki wiped the tears away from his eyes. “Do you like your chambers?”

“I did, actually. You would think that the staff knew my preferences in person,” she said cheekily.

“Well, it wasn’t the _staff_ …”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that my best friend arranged all of this to make me feel more comfortable?”

Loki laughed softly and she poked him between the ribs lightly. “I didn’t say it _yet_.”

“Loki! You shouldn’t have,” she gushed playfully, swatting his forearm with more force than was necessary.

“But I must!” Loki dropped to one knee, wringing his hands dramatically. “Who else can I spoil like this, if not you, my love, my dearest, my-”

Sigyn was laughing far too hard to reply. Loki waited patiently for her to regain her breath. “Are you quite finished? Because I have a monologue prepared about how you are my heart’s one true desire and how there will never be another quite like you,” Loki said, raising an eyebrow.

“The monologue will have to wait,” Sigyn said. She suddenly looked nervous, though Loki couldn’t fathom why. His smile slipped into a frown of concern as he got to his feet and dusted off the grass on his trousers.

“Sigyn, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she said, and while Loki could detect no lie, he knew that it wasn’t entirely the truth either. “Well, actually, it’s – I’m-” she sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Loki nodded. He frowned thoughtfully, and made a split-second decision. “I love you,” he blurted out, and blushed furiously. Oh, well. “I’m – I’m _in love_ with you, Sigyn, in a romantic way. I won’t make any advances, however, if you do not-”

“I love you too,” she said softly, shyly. Not something he associated with her.

He blinked. “You-”

“Well, yes,” Sigyn said more confidently, with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Those romantic feelings that you happened to mention? I happen to feel them as well, for you.”

Loki remained silent, processing her words. Not able to believe what she said. She raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Norns, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this speechless.”

Wasn’t that the truth?

“You are… in love with me?” Loki asked slowly. His words deserted him, right when he needed them most. He glanced upwards, dazed, not missing the white berries nestled in the branches above the couple. _Mistletoe._ What was that Midgardian practice concerning mistletoe again?

She sighed and stepped forwards, pressing her lips to his. He stilled for a second before she pulled away, looking amused. “Does that answer your question?”

His _seidr_ rose, unbidden, sparking at his fingertips. Sigyn caught his hands in hers, her magic joining his in a swirling display of colours. It felt as glorious as the first time. “It answers it perfectly,” he said, and moved to kiss her again, under the light of a thousand stars.


End file.
